


yellow hyacinth

by madhoney



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Basically, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Happy Ending, Jealousy, Language of Flowers, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:21:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25271566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madhoney/pseuds/madhoney
Summary: “If I come to bed, then I will eventually sleep, and if I sleep, then tomorrow will come.”“Tomorrow will come whether you sleep or not,” Taeyong cooed gently, lips finding the smooth skin of Doyoung's neck over and over. “Let us enjoy our time now.”
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 36
Kudos: 292
Collections: (let's get away) just the two of us: dotae fan week 2020





	yellow hyacinth

**Author's Note:**

> it's been too long since i've written dotae so i am really happy to be participating in dotae fanweek 2020 !! 
> 
> [[bgm](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=EQ1NYfo8lX8)]
> 
> please enjoy ❣  
> 🌼🌼🌼

Doyoung recalled the first time he saw the palace walls. He was barely sixteen, the recently orphaned son of a late and otherwise lower-level nobleman. Left with an unremarkable title and no other prospects, a distant aunt had him shipped off to the royal court, where he would take up a position as one of the young prince’s attendants. There was, of course, the expectation that such proximity to the ruling monarchs would lead to a suitable marriage that would bring honor to his family’s name – but that seemed to matter very little to him these days.

Doyoung remembered the sight of the hedges that surrounded the capital, so dense and magnificent that one would struggle to see the hard stone behind it. It was dotted with white roses and the only break in the structure was a gap of but a few measly meters – just enough for the iron gate that clanged and screeched as it rose upon the young boy’s entrance. 

It left such an impression that even nearly ten years later, he could close his eyes and still smell the intoxicating sweetness of the flowers, hear the rustle of the dense leaves as the wind passed swiftly through them. 

He hadn’t seen those hedges since his arrival, nor had he left the capital since the morning he passed through the gate. There was a time when he longed to depart from this place, but now he couldn’t dare imagine a life anywhere else.

To say his plans had changed would be a humorous understatement, if not an altogether joke of an unfair fate. Doyoung was not the only attendant who served the prince, but he was the only one left these days, his role having shifted to that of an advisor and companion. He was twenty-four now, unmarried and no closer to a match than the day he entered the royal court. There was no shortage of suitors – nobles and foreign royals alike attempted to vie for his hand, but none were successful. Perhaps that was because he did not have a hand he intended to give away anymore.

It was not his intention – nor did it happen overnight – so it was quite hard to say where his relationship with the prince first began to develop. Doyoung could not pinpoint the moment when his care began to stray beyond the boundaries of his service as an attendant. Maybe it was when his hand would linger a little too long as he slid ornate rings of silver and gold along the prince’s fingers in the mornings. Or maybe it was when he exerted an excess of attention as he pulled a brush through the prince’s soft blonde hair before bed.

But that didn’t matter. What mattered was the way such little things led to more – led to the private strolls in the gardens where they could speak freely with one another, and the cups of tea they shared in the evenings, often straying late into the night as neither ever willingly found an end to their conversations. The line of status often blurred until they departed altogether, carrying with them the formalities until they were just two boys with budding feelings for each other. 

He remembered the first time the prince kissed him. Doyoung had just passed his twentieth birthday, and it came time for the necessary discussion regarding his responsibility to secure a marriage and depart from the court to begin his future. Doyoung had watched the other noble-born attendants do the same, often with nothing but gratitude that there were now fewer people around to vie for the prince’s attention, even platonically. Their conversation felt cryptic and uncomfortable on both sides, failing to reach any conclusion on the matter and determining no steps to be taken to fulfill his duty. There was much left unsaid between them, neither interested in addressing the reality of their circumstances – their invariably antithetical fates. 

When the words fell away into silence, the prince had put aside his teacup and leaned across the richly patterned fabric of the settee in his sitting room, hesitant fingertips finding Doyoung’s cheek. It was delicate and nervous, the taste of lavender and honey still hanging on the prince’s lips. 

“ _Your Highness…_ ” Doyoung had breathed, cheeks warm with the flush of surprise.

The prince had giggled shyly, and curled his hand around Doyoung’s. 

“ _I think you may call me Taeyong now._ ”

From then, love bloomed, growing lush and dense and full between them. The prince was rarely seen without Doyoung dutifully by his side in public, and it was not long before their late evenings together were straying until the morning light. Doyoung had a home in Taeyong’s heart – and they did not speak of marriage again. 

Instead, they enjoyed their time together in blissful ignorance. Their chaste evening teas evolved into nights of imbibing dark wine and drinking each other in. Doyoung all but abandoned his own stately rooms for a place in the prince’s chambers, making a life for himself among the opulent fittings instead. It was a contrast to the pair of simple but symbolic rings they exchanged as a private promise to each other – plain silver bands that had not been taken off since.

Their love was a warm, cozy bubble, but strong like a fortress, impervious to destruction by anyone or anything – except for time. Taeyong was due to ascend to the throne and unlike Doyoung, his marriage could no longer be postponed. The matter had been decided and the bride quickly chosen, no matter how greatly they wished for it to not be so.

So now, as Doyoung stood in the moonlight that poured in through the windowpane, staring out at the palace walls at the boundary of the grounds, he felt fate creeping up and closing in on them. He could see the palace gate adorned with large, bright banners signifying a royal wedding. It turned his stomach and he wondered what the world beyond these walls was like these days, if there could possibly be a better life for him somewhere else. It was a solace, when the rest of his mind was consumed with thoughts of his love with another.

“Won’t you please come to bed?”

Doyoung could hear the pout in Taeyong’s voice as he wrapped his arms around him from behind, hands sliding along the fine satin of his robe – a gift from the prince himself. He propped his chin against Doyoung’s shoulder and clutched his body tightly to his own.

Doyoung fixed his eyes against the stone barrier in the distance, thumb absentmindedly spinning the band around his finger. “If I come to bed, then I will eventually sleep, and if I sleep, then tomorrow will come.”

“Tomorrow will come whether you sleep or not,” Taeyong cooed gently, lips finding the smooth skin of Doyoung's neck over and over. “Let us enjoy our time now.”

Doyoung took a deep breath and twisted in his arms. He pressed his palms against Taeyong’s bare chest. “How can I enjoy it knowing that tomorrow you will wed someone else?”

“Things will not change,” Taeyong murmured, words he often said in blind faith these days. They had been spoken so many times recently that they began to hit the ear hollowly. 

“But they will eventually.”

“We have been over this…” he sighed.

Doyoung did not want to hear it anymore, shoving out of Taeyong’s hold and strolling away towards the round, gilded table in the prince’s bedroom. Thin fingers curled around the neck of the cut crystal decanter and poured rich, red wine into a glass.

He took a long sip of wine. The ornate grandfather clock in the corner of the room ticked off the seconds.

“You will really go through with it?” Doyoung asked, his tone defeated.

“There is no other choice,” Taeyong said as he shuffled closer again.

“Says the soon-to-be King,” Doyoung scoffed, but his gaze was filled with more grief than anger. He tilted his glass back against his lips once more, draining it of its contents before setting it aside. He pushed a hand through his black hair before leaning both palms against the tabletop, head hanging low. “I cannot bear to see you side by side with another.” 

Taeyong snickered airily, which earned him a cutting glance. 

“You greatly overestimate the nature of this marriage arrangement.”

“But you will conceive an heir, yes? ” Doyoung countered. A shudder rocked through him, eyes squeezing shut as he frowned. “The thought of you kissing someone else… _touching_ someone else…”

“Ah, Doyoungie. Such jealousy might cause every yellow hyacinth in the kingdom to blossom on this night,” he cooed, fingertips tracing the edge of Doyoung’s jaw. He felt it tighten under his touch.

It was a joke made often these days of Doyoung and his envy, most recently in the form of the prince having the flower of jealousy sent to his companion’s rooms. 

Doyoung had long grown tired of the comparison to these bright blooms and his lips pursed into a hard line. He did not care if he was being irrational, and he _absolutely_ did not care for the nonchalance of the other’s tone. 

“Perhaps you can assist me in arranging a marriage for myself,” he bit.

Taeyong cocked an eyebrow, hand falling back to his side. 

“And how will that help?”

“It won’t,” Doyoung said plainly. “But at least you will know what this feels like. This pain, this heartache…”

He reached for the decanter again, but Taeyong caught his wrist. 

“You think I do not know what this feels like?” Taeyong asked firmly. “When all I have ever wanted is you?”

Doyoung struggled against his hold but he was too weak in the face of Taeyong’s pained eyes. His lips parted to speak but nothing came out. What else was there to say? He could not stop the inevitable and he did not want to fight. He sighed, letting his arm grow limp and defeated. The elder entwined his hand with Doyoung’s.

“Please come to bed now,” Taeyong whispered, pleading.

Doyoung offered a subtle nod and let himself be towed toward the bed. _Their_ bed. The monstrous centerpiece of the room, with four thick posts on each corner, fitted with a canopy of ivory gauze that draped elegantly over the sides.

Taeyong pulled the curtain to the side and ushered Doyoung through it before rounding to the other side to take his place. The prince settled atop the ruffled silk sheets and turned to Doyoung, whose lip was pulled into a sneer as he ran his hands over the luxe threading in the comforter.

“Is something wrong?”

“I do not want someone else in my bed,” Doyoung said matter-of-factly. “I will not allow it.”

Taeyong propped himself up on his side, hand reaching out to twirl the sash of Doyoung’s robe between his fingers.

“You will not allow it, hm?”

“I will not,” Doyoung repeated firmly. “Your… _encounters_ with the bride must take place elsewhere.”

“She will have her own rooms, of course,” Taeyong said, tugging at the sash until the knot gave way. 

Doyoung hummed, somewhat unconvinced as he relaxed back against the pillows, stretching out his legs. Taeyong slipped his hand into the partition of his robe, cool fingertips dancing over the skin at his waist.

He shimmied closer until he was at Doyoung’s side, hand cresting over the bend of his hip, kneading lightly at the flesh. Doyoung never wore anything beneath his robe at night – after all this time, it made little sense. 

Taeyong latched his lips to Doyoung’s collarbone and peppered tiny kisses along his skin in the hopes of easing his love’s worries.

“I want those rooms far away,” Doyoung continued distractedly. His fingers carded through the prince’s hair, but his eyes were trained on some distant, unfocused point against the ceiling. His thoughts were still elsewhere. “ _Very_ far away.”

“Shall I commission the building of a separate wing of the palace for her entirely?” Taeyong asked facetiously. 

“Perhaps,” Doyoung sniffed. “But it should be uncomfortably small and—”

“Doyoung.” Taeyong pulled away and hovered over him. “Shall we discuss construction designs all night?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. 

Truly, he didn’t want to quarrel anymore, but he just couldn’t help himself sometimes. It was hard to put this big gray cloud over him out of his mind.

But that seemed to be enough to appease the prince, whose hand worked into motion again – and Doyoung realized its rather sensitive placement low on his torso.

“Besides, it may not be such a good idea to place her _to_ _o_ far away,” Taeyong said, fingers slinking further down. “Then she will not be able to hear me fucking you whenever I please.”

He ran his fingertips over Doyoung’s length making the younger suck in a sharp breath. 

Taeyong was not a bad man. The prince was neither mean nor vindictive, and would never seek to harm an innocent, unwitting person. Doyoung knew he was just placating him, just playing into his jealous ways for the sake of his companion’s comfort. But he didn’t care about the reason – he only cared about Taeyong’s fingers wrapping snugly around his cock.

Doyoung took the prince’s face in his hands and pulled him close, slotting their lips together. It was gentle at first, lips moving together like the shallow lapping of waves on the shore, but it grew hungrier. Doyoung pushed a hand into his hair and tangled his fingers in the tresses as he tilted his head for more access. 

Taeyong swiped his tongue between Doyoung’s lips. The prince still tasted of the black currants that were laced in the wine they imbibed not long ago. It was fruity and tart and familiar.

Doyoung ran his hand down Taeyong’s side and passed the dip of his spine before diving beneath the waistband of his silk pants. He pushed them down beyond the small curve of his ass, letting Taeyong do the rest of the work to slink out of them until the bodies rolling languidly together were bared now. 

Doyoung’s hand searched rather blindly for a partition in the curtain by his side before reaching beyond it toward his nightstand. He clutched a small porcelain vessel and tipped back the lid before holding it out towards Taeyong.

The scent of sweet almond oil always tickled Taeyong’s nose and made him smile. He leaned back, helping Doyoung to comfortably reposition himself, legs opening to settle on either side of the prince.

Taeyong dipped his fingers in the oil before pressing a digit against Doyoung’s entrance. It slid inside him with little resistance and Doyoung moaned, eliciting another smile from the other.

Doyoung settled back against the plush pillows and let the prince take care of the work. He knew Taeyong enjoyed it – and the prince certainly appreciated the chance to tease his partner.

“Truly, what need have I for a queen when I already have this princess in my bed?” Taeyong smirked.

Doyoung opened his mouth to refute the irrefutable but was cut off as Taeyong pushed another skillful finger inside him. He felt his chest grow a little warmer – and his cock a little harder – at the drag of his fingers against his walls, scissoring and loosening at will.

Doyoung took a breath before trying to speak again.

“She will not feel like this, you know?” 

“And pray tell, how would you know, my darling?” Taeyong cooed, fingers driving in a little more roughly and drawing another whine from Doyoung’s lips. “Have you a mistress somewhere you’ve been hiding? Someone who might afford you such anatomical knowledge?”

“I _read_ ,” Doyoung huffed curtly. “And I _listen_.”

Taeyong hummed casually. “It is amazing what sort of information the women of this court will offer to someone like you, whom they think will have no use for it…”

Their relationship was a bit of an open secret around the palace, but no one dared to question it so the affair quickly became old news. There was plenty of other gossip and drama to sate the wagging tongues of court anyway. And these days, few even batted an eye at such things. 

“Women can be like this,” Doyoung added. “You might do well to prepare yourself for that.”

Taeyong only laughed softly, eyes flashing as he watched Doyoung writhing beneath him already. Though his digits were slender enough for a third to be added, he usually didn’t – so the stretch of another finger caught Doyoung off guard, his hand fisting into the egyptian cotton sheets. 

It had been a long, long time since their first night spent together. Doyoung remembered well the clumsiness of it all – the prince’s hesitation and caution, and his own nerves that had made his body tense and rigid. But he also remembered the giggles and contented sighs breathed from flushed faces as they learned each other’s bodies. 

Now, they were acquainted with every inch of one another. So when Taeyong crooked his fingers inside the other, he knew Doyoung would tilt his pelvis, hips grinding down against the prince’s hand. 

His cock twitched with every push of Taeyong’s fingers, precum purging from the tip and dripping down onto his abdomen. Taeyong swiped at the pink head of Doyoung’s length – just a fleeting touch, just a tease, just enough to have the younger hissing.

“Taeyong, please,” Doyoung whined. 

He was never one for much foreplay, but his patience for it was even lower than usual tonight, when all he really wanted was to be as close as possible to the love of his life.

And Taeyong knew it, sensed it, as he retrieved the vessel of oil from Doyoung’s shaking hand. This time, he brought it closer, tipping it quite carelessly over Doyoung’s perineum and entrance. It didn’t matter if there was a mess – all the linens would be laundered the next day anyway.

The oil slipped along Taeyong’s fingers as they slid from inside him and massaged his rim. He grasped his member, slicking it in preparation before setting the porcelain container back in its place and scooting closer to Doyoung.

Taeyong pressed a hand to the other’s thigh, forcing it to open wider for him as he lined himself up to Doyoung’s entrance. He took his time, eyes closing and lip tucked between his teeth as he pushed his cock into Doyoung slowly, deliberately, until he could go no further. Doyoung melted down into the mattress beneath him, feeling the throb of his entire length deep inside him.

Taeyong’s chest deflated, a long exhale drifting from between his lips like he had been holding his breath. 

“While I cannot be sure what she will feel like,” he breathed, hips beginning to roll shallowly. “I _am_ sure that nothing in this world will ever feel as good as you, Doyoung.”

Doyoung whimpered at the praise, knowing the other believed every word of it. He scrambled to get a hold of the prince until Taeyong leaned forward, hands planted firmly on either side of his torso as he fucked into him.

The prince pulled Doyoung’s leg up and hooked it around his waist, the other naturally following suit while he found a comfortable rhythm – one that had sweet little moans dripping from Doyoung’s lips like nectar.

Doyoung slithered his hands up Taeyong’s back, ghosting along the muscles well-honed by the arts of archery and horseback riding, before settling near his shoulders. He liked the way they felt gliding along his strong back with every move. 

Taeyong thrusted harder now, as if forcing himself closer and deeper inside Doyoung, who in turn dug his nails into his skin. He carved scratches down Taeyong’s back, stark red lines that would no doubt criss-cross the expanse for days to come.

A groan rippled from Taeyong’s throat and he sunk lower against the other.

“I know what you are doing, Doyoungie,” he sang, voice raspy and low against his ear. 

The sound had heat coiling tightly in Doyoung’s lower abdomen, legs gripping tighter around Taeyong’s figure.

“I want it known that you belong to another,” Doyoung breathed.

He dragged his nails across Taeyong’s skin again, earning a clipped grunt from the elder. 

“Of course, it is known,” Taeyong said, pelvis rocking more harshly now, his length brushing just the right spot inside Doyoung. “Known and accepted by everyone that matters.”

Doyoung’s back arched up off the mattress and Taeyong took the opportunity to leave wet, open-mouthed kisses against his neck. He nipped at the flesh, leaving behind marks of his own before lapping at the tender spot with his tongue. 

Doyoung was woozy, overwhelmed with stimulation and sensation all over his body. His cock rubbed against Taeyong’s abdomen, aching and leaking precum. He was so close to the edge, so ready to come apart at the seams until—

The prince halted, leaning back rather abruptly and quietly catching his breath. He was still, unmoving, save for the hand wandering along Doyoung’s torso, fingertips brushing against his nipples then trailing faintly down the line of his sternum. Even in silhouette, with the glow of the full moon behind him, Doyoung could see the way Taeyong was gazing at him. It wasn’t the look of hunger and need that typically would have accompanied this moment. No, it was something more gentle, almost solemn. It had Doyoung lifting an inquisitive eyebrow.

“What is this look?” he asked, somewhat breathlessly as he gestured towards the other’s expression. 

“I am not sure I ever appreciated just how beautiful you are like this…” Taeyong sighed, but didn’t meet Doyoung’s eyes. “Skin blooming with flush, lined in shimmering satin… Eyes dark and heavy… Pretty cock leaking all over yourself…”

Doyoung whimpered pathetically in frustration. Yes, it was all very warm and sweet and flattering but at this very moment, his body was begging for the prince to _move_ – to grind or thrust or do _anything_ to tip him over the edge into the euphoria he craved _…_

“I just want to be sure I have every detail of you – like _this –_ burned into my memory,” Taeyong continued gently, hand splaying along the bend of Doyoung’s small waist. 

Doyoung’s heart sank, eyes softening. He knew that, despite the prince’s confident words, he harbored his own worries about their future together and perhaps now he could hide it no longer. They always knew this day would have to come – that fate would inevitably intervene on their blissful union – but the reality was becoming painfully hard to swallow.

He lifted Taeyong‘s hand away from his body and brought it to his lips, kissing his fingertips and his thin silver ring before giving Taeyong’s wrist a little tug, ushering him closer until they were chest to chest again. Doyoung could see the subtle, childlike pout of his lips and the glimmer in his eyes.

“If I had only one wish in this world,” he whispered, fingers brushing Taeyong’s bangs aside before resting against his cheek. “It would be to give you an heir myself.”

The prince’s eyes fluttered closed as he pressed his forehead to Doyoung’s.

“You have already given me everything else and so much more,” Taeyong breathed quietly, his strained voice splintering off here and there. “I only wish I could have done more for you… For _us_ …”

Doyoung was Taeyong’s most trusted confidante and advisor, and they discussed many significant matters together – but even with him, Taeyong had always done well to conceal his deepest emotions. He was more at home with spinning his charm and wit rather than exposing the delicate feelings within him.

So to see the prince crumbling before Doyoung’s eyes pained him more than anything else.

“No matter what,” Taeyong continued. “In the end, it is you, Doyoung. Always”

Doyoung tilted his chin to catch the other’s lips in a brief kiss.

“My prince, my Taeyong,” he started tenderly. 

But he was cut off as Taeyong’s trembling lips came crashing back to his, this time more powerfully as he spurned back into action. He bored roughly into the other, hand grabbing onto Doyoung’s hip so tightly that there would likely be a bruise found blossoming on the spot tomorrow.

Doyoung’s throat tightened, faint cries growing louder and louder until he was nearly in falsetto range. A drop of liquid hit his neck and then another on his cheek. There was little time to process it before Taeyong rammed his cock in with a particularly harsh drive and started filling him with warmth.

Doyoung’s eyes rolled back at the comforting sensation, his own member painting semen all over his torso in thick strings. Taeyong slowed to a grind, forcing all of his seed deep inside Doyoung before collapsing down onto him.

It was quiet. Without a word, Doyoung thumbed at the silent tears that strayed from the prince’s eyes before circling his arms around his tired frame. Taeyong’s breathing grew slow and steady while Doyoung’s fingers traced calming patterns in the thin layer of perspiration on his skin. 

“Will you really leave tomorrow?”

Doyoung’s chest suddenly felt caught in a vice. “How did you know about that?”

“I was told there is a carriage scheduled to depart from the south gate at first light,” Taeyong explained quietly. “There is no one else that would leave the palace on the day of a royal wedding.”

Doyoung swallowed painfully. It had been his intention since the date was set. He could not be expected to endure such an event. He planned for a retreat to the winter palace, a remote chateau in the mountains some distance away – at least long enough so that the wedding buzz might die down by the time he returned. Or… _if_ he returned.

But he never planned on telling Taeyong, who he felt had enough on his plate already without adding to it whatever upset might ensue.

“I cannot watch you pledge yourself to another at the altar – not while everyone smiles and cheers and sings…” Doyoung said. “I am not sure my heart can survive it, Taeyong.”

The prince nodded in understanding and finally shifted to pull himself out of Doyoung and away from his body, leaving him feeling cold and empty. Taeyong retrieved a cotton cloth from the nightstand and cleaned up the other without any further commentary. 

When Taeyong was finished, he discarded the dirty material and pulled the sheets up around Doyoung’s body.

Exhaustion suddenly began to overcome Doyoung. His eyelids wilted to a close as he weakly curled into the prince who had settled back into place beside him. 

“I love you,” Taeyong mumbled, so lowly that it seemed he suspected Doyoung had already faded – though he hadn’t. “I hope you will change your mind.”

The prince pressed his lips to his forehead, and Doyoung drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, he woke up in Taeyong’s arms – and he did not depart as planned. 

But he did not yet dismiss the carriage or unpack his belongings, either. 

He attended the wedding ceremony with as much composure as he could manage. It felt foreign and lonesome – even awkward – to no longer occupy the space at the prince’s side. It had been _his_ place for so long.

Though still, he returned the small but relieved smile that Taeyong had sent upon spotting him among the rows of guests. And it had not escaped his notice that, even among all the lavish, elegant jewels on the prince’s hand, Taeyong still wore his modest silver band.

Doyoung stayed at the reception for much longer than he intended, as it became clear how much the prince appreciated the support of his presence. He even agreed to share a few dances with some individuals who were not subtle in their interest toward him. It could have been a worse evening, he had to admit. But he eventually retreated back to his rooms, alone. 

He stood before the window. The view was different here – less grand and impressive than the one from Taeyong’s window. 

This space was almost unfamiliar – he so rarely spent the nights here anymore and he was not fond of it. He set about pouring himself a glass of wine, but the decanter was empty and he suspected he should have expected that – Doyoung always chose the bottles but they were always delivered to the prince’s room.

At a loss, he turned to the end table nearby where a crystal vase sat, holding the yellow hyacinths sent several days ago. His fingertips brushed over the tiny petals that had already fallen off the withering flower. 

He sighed. He hadn’t even shrugged out of his formal suit jacket before he was eyeing his trunk, still waiting by the entry of his rooms.

He took a deep breath and strode toward the tall oak door with a mind to call an attendant and alert the driver of his intent to leave tonight. But as he grasped the brass handle and swung open the door, the sight on the other side of it was not what he expected.

“Taeyong,” he breathed, almost gasping in surprise. The prince had retired out of his elegant and traditional groom’s attire and into something more relaxed, standing before Doyoung now. His lavish garments were gone, as were his jewels and adornments. All that remained was plain, soft cotton and a single silver ring. “You are… here.”

It came out more like a question and rightfully so, as Taeyong was undoubtedly meant to be elsewhere, performing a very specific, post-ceremonial duty at this hour. 

“The consummation can wait another day. There will be no rush,” The prince smiled shyly before presenting the dark bottle in his hands that had escaped Doyoung’s first glance. “It has been a long day for us both. And I thought you might be in need of wine.”

“I am, yes…” Doyoung confirmed tentatively. “And yes, it was… a long, _difficult_ day.”

“Indeed,” Taeyong said, stepping around him to pass through the doorway. “Though you seemed to find a way to enjoy yourself, dancing and mingling with suitors. It appears the distance between you and I has inspired some… _hopeful_ spirits.”

The prince’s tone had the same playful but pointed lilt as usual, as if he had not just undergone a life-changing event before the eyes of the entire kingdom. Doyoung could tell he was relieved to see an end to the long-awaited festivities and could finally breathe – at least for now – so Taeyong was seeking the comfort of his company.

It was natural, their routine seemingly untouched – and that was deeply comforting to Doyoung, who’s heart was swelling in his chest. 

So he closed the door behind the prince. He would not be leaving the palace tonight after all.

“Ah, is it the married lover’s turn to be jealous now?” Doyoung quipped, cocking an eyebrow as he returned the teasing needle back to the prince.

Taeyong clicked his tongue as he made short work of opening the bottle and filling the pair of goblets on the table nearby. 

“You do not have a monopoly on such feelings, you know,” Taeyong smirked, passing a cup to Doyoung and then turning his eyes back to the table. He pinched a fallen hyacinth petal between his fingers and examined it before adding, “Of course I grow jealous too – I only ever want you to myself.”

Doyoung took the wine and lifted a hand to Taeyong’s cheek to bring back his attention. “Perhaps this is how it will always be for you and I.”

Taeyong hummed as the other’s thumb brushed against his cheekbone.

“Perhaps,” he agreed quietly, turning slightly to press a kiss to Doyoung’s palm. “But you are worth such green-eyed suffering.”

“And is that what we will drink to tonight?” Doyoung sighed, half in comfort and half in quiet acceptance of the knowledge that their love would always come with complications. “To us and our suffering?”

Taeyong chuckled softly and stepped even closer, catching Doyoung’s lips for a moment.

“To us and our suffering,” he offered, raising his cup. “For love.”

The clink of their golden goblets rang out in the silence.

No, things were not perfect for them and Doyoung doubted that they ever would be. Their stars were simply not aligned that way. 

But now, with Taeyong’s eyes still sparkling with the very same warmth and affection for him even after all this time and all these changes, even with their difficult circumstances, Doyoung was certain he would not trade this fate for any other. 

In the end, it would always be the two of them. And this was a pain worth enduring, a cost worth paying, for the purity and potency of the love they found in each other. 

~

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much reading 🖤 i hope you enjoyed it!! please be sure to drop some kudos and a comment 🌼✨
> 
> [twt!](https://twitter.com/mad__honey) [cc!](https://curiouscat.me/mad__honey)


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